If Wolves Ran the Mafia

A Brother's Duty - Lorenzo

"How did it come to this, Lorenzo?"

Lorenzo cocked his white-tipped ears. His shoulders drooped. "You broke the rules and betrayed the family, Angelo." The dying burns of a cigarette and gray mist with lingering pungent herbs met the words. "I warned you."

Static blared on the old radio. A young female singing an old indie song fought on a loop behind the bar's neon lights. Guns clicked unceremoniously behind the pair. Four brown fur wolves in black suits watched on, seated at a table by the door. Silence lingered over the small gentlemen's room. This was the first time Lorenzo had experienced One-Night Stand empty. The place exhumed the luxury of a fallen species. Traces of expensive perfumes from the girls that left, mixed with the grassy earthly tone of freshly picked flowers, made the room resemble a small garden. The walls were draped in purple, the bar seats were smoothed and polished in a shiny black. The gold countertop was so expensive that a scratch would be equivalent to the average yearly salary. It was velvety under Lorenzo's hand. A shameless marvel in a regressing world. A place for fine booze and the company of exotic females. One could find a human or two for any pleasure on the right night, given the right price. That unbridled forbidden indulgence had led them to this. A half bottle of Cutty Sark whisky sat between them.

Angelo fumed a lingering stench of witches' brew. So potent that under Lorenzo's nose, no amount of alcohol could mask it. Lorenzo knew from Angelo's white-laced claws he had not long used it. In the streets, the soldiers called it the shine. A name that didn't match what it did to the body. Angelo's canines were missing, and his gray fur coat was dull, a condition of the abuse. It gave the user four hours in another world of pure fantasy. At least, that was what Lorenzo was told. It would be a desire most killed for. To escape the true grasp of reality. After all, they had burned half the world to a crisp, and what remained was an overpopulated mess. Lorenzo bared his teeth. The witch had probably traded Angelo's false promises to become nothing more than a peddler.

Angelo clanked his glass on the counter, taking on his human form, and Lorenzo mirrored his move and folded his arm. The two reclined back on the bar stool. Angelo's crossed eyes pointed to the two sides of the bar. His pinky ring on his mechanical arm tapped on the edge of the counter.

Finally, Angelo exhaled and removed the pin embodied with the letter C from his brown dress shirt before rubbing his claws into the fur of his neck. "Yeah, pup, you did. Maybe I should have listened."

"You should have, you stubborn old fool," Lorenzo said, unscrewing the bottle and pouring a glass for himself and Angelo. "You want another cigarette?" Without waiting for the answer, Lorenzo drew it from his pocket.

Angelo took the cigarette from Lorenzo and fiddled with it in his hand. His eyes lingered on the empty bottle as the flat-faced broad nose goblin hurriedly took it. The thing held it skittish in its hand.

It strained its head, showing half of its left ear was missing. "More water?" The voice carried a disgraceful, grating tone. Catching the eye of Lorenzo, the thing shifted its gaze from a dead stare. The collar marked Caso around its neck signified the creature to its owners. The creature's red devilish eyes shifted between the two wolves for an order. One misstep and the thing would be shocked with a surge of pain.

Lorenzo pointed his finger at another bottle, and like a good pet, the creature had it in seconds on the counter. Goblins, Lorenzo, never liked them, and it had nothing to do with the fact that they all smelled as though they hadn't touched a sprinkle of water. It was the deviousness that couldn't be trusted. One or two goblins were fine, but a horde of them created a mind. And he knew better than anyone else that a wandering mind was dangerous.

"Is she —"

"Dead?" Lorenzo and Angelo drank at the same time. The cream malt spices sizzled on his tongue. Lorenzo wiped his chin as the alcohol spilled.